


An Experiment With Sound

by roguefaerie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bittersweet, Chocolate Box 2020, Chocolate Box Exchange, Chronic Pain, Dean Winchester Has Powers, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Implied Underage Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Kinda, Librarians, Library, Library Sex, M/M, Mental Link, No actual graphic underage but heavily implied, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, Pre-Stanford Era (Supernatural), Psychic Bond, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Telepathy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefaerie/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: Sam and Dean are in a library. The library is not empty. Dean may be opinionated about this and other things.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	An Experiment With Sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phoenixflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/gifts).



She knew most of what she could figure out from the way they moved. How one of them slumped his shoulders to not seem so--

Catlike. That was what they were. They’d be silent except for the clunk of boots on the floor. They fit the silence of the library that way, like they’d been here before and knew how to fit here, maybe encouraged by an adult who’d been in their lives. 

They had that competitive edge to the way they shifted along the aisles, too, like they were daring each other to mess up so the other could swoop in.

She had them pegged, even if she wasn’t sure if she’d seen that many guys in biker boots and leathers in the library before. The taller one's brown jacket was more in place, really, but she wasn't really one to be critiquing fashion much, least of all here. It was just--

They were something worth watching.

They didn’t notice her, though, she was pretty sure, because they were at the end of the shelves in the corner when the shorter one in front let out a tiny sound, something that would have been lost in any other space.

Brown-jacket put one put a hand out and braced the small of the other one’s back. They came together like--

\--like--

\--no.

Like they’d done this a million times before. Like lovers. Like they were totally alone.

She watched a whole series of expressions cross brown-jacket's younger face. The older one turned just enough, so she couldn't see his face or the story it told. He was looking away from her. 

Looking back at his--.

The person with him.

Eyes only for him.

_Weird biker freaks._

No. Not quite that. 

Something else.

But close. Close.

Close. That was--it. That was everything.

They were in each other’s pockets. They probably always had been.

Always.

Emotions kept flashing over the face of the one she could see, like he was having a whole conversation with someone in the dark-but-not-too-dark back there. 

It was almost like he was holding the shorter one up entirely at this point, and no matter what it might have looked like he wasn’t going to let go. He knew what he was being asked to do.

And then the one in front--leather jacket--spoke again. His voice sounded almost unused and rough.

“Just one more case, Sammy. Please. You know you aren’t supposed to go.” 

It felt like maybe he didn't even know he spoke, and suddenly she felt like--maybe the way she always should have, that she shouldn’t be witnessing this.

* * *

Sam knew that everyone could always read what he was thinking on his face. So it meant something when he only slumped his shoulders the way he always did, trying not to appear as gargantuan as he was. He didn't hide his face, least of all from Dean.

Someone could see them. But no one would have the power to hear them.

Until Dean made a needy noise out loud and Sam knew exactly where this was going to go now, but he couldn't help but fall in step. He always would, at least for Dean if not for Dad.

It was always going to be Dean that he couldn't stand to be without.

He put his hand exactly where he knew Dean needed it to be, bracing a back injury from two winters ago, so that the dull but steady pain there would have a chance to stop and Dean could relax--into Sam.

And there could be more.

Sam always knew where those pains were, and what they meant about Dean’s body.

Sam knew all of the things like that. When Dean melted into his touch, Sam could always tell it was coming, just like all the rest of the things that didn't even take conscious thought anymore.

The flood of emotion from Dean was next, and Sam all but launched into his latest rationalization of why he would have to leave.

The problem was, one of the reasons was--this.

He didn’t say anything, but he let his emotions join Dean’s, sending them out for Dean to find, punctuated with short phrases. _I know, Dean. I know. I’ve got you_. He meant for them to tell Dean without words that this had nothing to do with it, for old time’s sake, and he knew he wouldn’t really leave if it was just this. With Dad-- With hunting-- With everything-- There was so much more.

Sam knew he’d never been normal, and maybe it’d be damn near ridiculous to try. But right now, in this moment, he had Dean, and he wasn’t gone yet, and he wasn’t planning to ditch in the middle of this library.

He knew how far Dean’s noise was going to carry, and he didn’t feel an ounce of regret. In fact he wanted--

 _Lean into me_ , he said, over the quiet of the mental link, so that Dean knew that if he wanted this Sam would too.

Dean leaned back and Sam took the weight.

* * *

Sam still loved him. Nothing else in the world mattered, except, maybe, maybe, that they get found out, even here. That mattered to Dean in the bright-hot moment in the semi-darkness of the room, or else why would he have made the slightest noise when they'd always had the link?

He knew he did it. Sam knew he did it. Maybe the library dorks did too.

And that he would do it again. Oh, yes.

For Sam. _Sam_.

He let himself settle back against his brother, maybe not quite in the shadow enough--after all, Sam was behind him.

Maybe even that could never be enough. Maybe nothing could.

Maybe Dean was just--

But Sam took the weight, and he wasn't gone yet, and Dean thought about how much more time there was or wasn't, and how he’d never met a Winchester who fell down and stayed down.

Yeah, weird, but it was a feeling he’d been having. That maybe it might not go the way Dean would like it to, but something like them, they were probably unstoppable. 

Just like the noise. Or how Dean felt-- And then-- How he heard Sam tell him in his mind, to _lean back, lean back_ because Sam knew he had him.

Because they still have each other--in every way.

And it didn't matter where they were, or what they were doing. Where they had begun or where they ended had always been hard to tell, and that wouldn't change.

 _I've got you_ , Sam said again, a litany, a mantra, a balm, and everything in between.

That would always be what mattered.

Because Dean believed him.

He had to.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you like this!


End file.
